Why can't I just be a point of light speeding around the universe with no emotions, no obligations, no specific purpose other than to be...light?
(Or is that what it is?)
Or a song so beautiful no one can quite remember the melody?
Why can't I be forgotten and never laid to rest?
Or never perceived in the first place?
If only I could be the guilty fleeting thought inside a darkly disturbed mind, never reaching the point of expression but dismissed instantly as too terrible, snuffed like a candle buried in the subconscious mind...
Brightly scarletted bird painted over in black, denied continued perception by the human mind and eye.
Be a flutter of white birds into the darkness, the sound of flapping wings echoing for eternity.
Just to be a bird would be divine, to fly into the desert and disappear.
A single piano note played suddenly in the dead of night, force unseen, striking terror into the hearts of the ears that heard it wondering who could have played it.
(I am the serial killer who has never killed...anyone but myself).
If I could only be such a fleeting moment, framed in forever, never spoken, never recalled Could I rest? Complete?